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When George Shaw tries to find a plan for the last fifteen days to spend with his best friend, who he's had a crush on for as long as he can remember, all he needs is a map to plot out a road trip and his daily h...
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After the safari adventure, we found a place to change our clothes so we were definitely drier on our way off to Oatman, our wet clothes spread over the back seat. The kiss was definitely keeping my mind busy with a goofy grin on my face. Would it always be like this? Whenever she kissed me, was I going to melt down?
"George, the road is twisty. Be careful."
"I am," I replied to reassure her. I braked a little and swerved the road. "Abby."
"Yes?" She said, a taint of curiosity in her tone.
"You're the most gorgeous girl I've ever met and I always wanted to say this to you without sounding like a pervert."
That made her chuckle at first, tilting her head back. "You're so sweet, George, you know that, right? I mean, you've got a soft teddy bear inside that hard body."
I would have minded being called a teddy bear if she didn't say I had a hard body. "Workout works then," I replied. Because of her slip of tongue, if that was so, she suddenly blushed as if she was busted. "If you want, you can take a closer look."
"Maybe later."
Her response took me off guard. When I peeked at her, I figured she was aware of her triumph. Our days were passing by with new ways to surprise each other and she never failed to do so. The Abby who blushed at one glance was gone now, and that was just tempting me more.
Oatman was a ghost town. I would totally skip but Abby usually liked to visit such places for their history. "Do you want to stop here?" I asked just in case she didn't find Oatman one of those places worth a visit.
She slightly lifted her head from the screen and nodded me softly. "Do you know the story of Oatman?" I didn't need to answer to that, for she was eager to tell a story and I surely didn't know it. "It was named in the honor of a girl called Olive Oatman. This girl's family was killed in 1851 by Native Americans and, her sister and she were captured and enslaved by them. A year later, they were sold to the Mojave Indians. For four years, they stayed there and her sister died of starvation." Then, she showed me a picture of a woman whose chin had strange tattoos. "That tattoo was made by the Mojave people. It means that she belongs to that tribe and she should have a good afterlife. Olive didn't speak ill of that Indians, and said they took good care of her. But some suspect she was suffering from Stockholm Syndrome so she wasn't too objective over that matter."
"Poor girl," I replied. "We should definitely visit Oatman, then." Though she seemed still bitter over the subject, a content smile spread over her lips as I took a turn into the ghost town. As we walked down in the streets of this abandoned town, I learned that this town was famous for gold-mining. It didn't last long, though.
After Abby took some pictures in the place, we continued to Topock. "George, there is a bridge called London Bridge in Lake Havasu City, which is around forty minutes away from here. It looks pretty good, and even better at night. Would you want to visit?"
